


little lies

by disgustinglyperfect



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, this is gonna be a long one folks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disgustinglyperfect/pseuds/disgustinglyperfect
Summary: Nylah longs for an adventure that will take her outside of her bedroom. But secrets surround her and her family, and with rumours of a nearby evil starting to grow, drastic times call for drastic measures.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> so this mostly comes from my annual lotr marathon and me wanting to live in the universe of middle earth. also this is my first OC fic hehehe.
> 
> alsO i made a ko-fi! If you like my work and you want to support me, [here's](http://ko-fi.com/alisongovier) the link! I appreciate any and all support!!

“I can’t be a father! And I certainly can’t have the townspeople finding out that I…”

“Slept with?”

“Alfrid, don’t be crude. I can’t have them finding out I slept with a travelling wench. What am I going to do?”

“If you’re asking me, Sire, I’d say you have to give this woman enough money to make her leave town before word gets out.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’ll hang myself before I give my money to a wench.”

“With all due respect, Sire, in that case, you’ll have to take in the child yourself.”

“I can’t raise a child! And what will people think of me, suddenly revealing a child with no wife to speak for?”

“Maybe you don’t have to reveal it, Sire.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your attic hasn’t been used in a long while. Hire a private tutor. Keep the child hidden. Then, when it comes of age, you’ll have an heir. Keep the money in the family, you know.”

“Alfrid, have I ever told you how smart you are?”

“No, Sire.”


	2. catching a glimpse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Father, I wondered if I… if I might speak to you.” She waited for a reply, and taking his silence as one, continued. “Well, I am nearly sixteen, and I was hoping that this year, instead of having the servant buy me a sweetroll, I might… receive another gift. A… different gift.”
> 
> “If you think I am buying you another wretched book, you are sorely mistaken.” Her father said without looking up.
> 
> “No, I meant a less… material gift.” Nylah replied.
> 
> Her father closed his book of records. “Get on with it. You know I hate it when you speak vaguely.”

Nylah awoke, shivering. Her attic bedroom was dreadfully drafty, especially since the winter had begun to settle in around Lake Town. The heat from her father’s fireplace somehow missed her room completely, and so she had swaddled herself in two woolen blankets and a bear skin.

The sun was just beginning to rise, and Nylah knew her father’s meetings would start early. It was the fifth day of winter, and the week-long Winter Festival in Mirkwood would be starting soon. Many trade preparations and negotiations had to be made, and Nylah’s father had a line-up of ambassadors from all around the North, and Nylah’s job was to sit in the loft, recording her father’s meetings from above.

In a way, Nylah was grateful. Her father had stopped paying for her tutor three winters ago, and she had read the same three books over and over. This winter would be her sixteenth, and she knew that her father had big plans for her. Why else would he have kept her locked in their house her whole life, without even a single step outside?

Nylah’s door was opened by a servant, who brought her a tray of bread and tea. Breakfast. Also, her father’s passive-aggressive way of saying hurry up. Nylah hurriedly stuffed the bread into a pocket in her coat and took the cup. The morning was so cold that her tea was already lukewarm. Pulling on an overdress and her coat for good measure, she slipped out of her attic room, following the servant down a flight of stairs, where she retrieved her quill, ink, and leather-bound notebook. She tucked herself between two bookshelves that only held books of trade receipts, and began gnawing on her bread. Stale, as usual. At least the loft was slightly warmer than her attic, thanks to the crackling fireplace in the corner.

“Hail, Master of Lake-Town.” A voice announced from below.

“Hail…” Her father began, then trailed off.

“Prince Legolas, Representative of Mirkwood.” Alfrid filled in. A real life Prince, in her house? Nylah had only read about Princes in her fairytales.

“I come to speak with you about your fish.” The Prince said, taking a seat across from the Master at his desk.

“Well, we have many fish of which to speak.” The Master replied. Her father could be so eloquent when dealing with potential customers or trade partners.

“I am glad to hear it. Our kingdom requests another fifty pounds to be sent to us for the Festival. We have had some… unexpected guests.” The Prince said.

Mirkwood asks for fifty more pounds of fish. Nylah scrawled in the notebook.

“Fifty pounds, eh?” Her father pondered the request. “I will have to double my fishermen’s hours. Your festival begins, what, in five days?”

“Five days, indeed.”

“I don’t suppose proper compensation will be provided? After all, these are ordinary men. They have families, wives, children. They won’t want to work double the time for the same pay.” Her father reasoned.

“Of course.” The Prince agreed. “We will offer an extra ninety gold pieces on top of our already established price of one hundred and fifty gold pieces, along with ten more barrels of wine.”

90 + 150 gold + 10 barrels of wine. Nylah wrote. She went back to her notes from the day before. A party of Rangers entered the city on their way to the Festival - they are to stay for two days. Wild warg packs have been spotted along the western shore. 

“Hm, you drive a hard bargain, Master Elf.” Her father hummed. Hearing that, Nylah couldn’t resist peeking over the railing of the loft. She had never seen a real elf before. To be fair, she had never seen anyone besides her father, Alfrid, her tutor, and her father’s servant.

The elf in her father’s office was strikingly blonde, long hair braided back neatly to reveal his pointy ears. Nylah couldn’t see his face from her angle, but she imagined him to have an unrealistically handsome face, with a strong jawline, prominent cheekbones, and a slim, lithe nose.

The elf’s head turned in her direction, and Nylah pulled away at the last second. She didn’t know if she’d been seen, but she held her breath anyways.

“I did not know you were so invested in children’s literature as to keep a book of fairytales.” The elf said suddenly, turning to a shelf beside the Master’s desk. He gingerly picked up a tattered copy of The Tales of Elmon Carleth. “Especially one so old and… weathered.”

“Simply a memento from my childhood. I keep it in case any children come to visit.” The Master muttered nervously. Nylah could sense the panic in his voice. 

“Do you get many visiting children?” The elf asked. Something about his voice was off, almost wrong. 

The Master cleared his throat. “I’ll take your deal, Master Elf. Fifty pounds of fish in five days. Safe journey! Many thanks for visiting, and all.”

He waved his hand, and Nylah heard Alfrid escort the Elf Prince and his party out of the building. She released her breath, and closed the notebook. Not a minute later, her father stormed up the stairs.

“What on the bloody earth was that?” He roared. “You think you can just leave your books lying around? You’re damn lucky I was able to fool him so well.”

Nylah protested. “It was an accident, father, I was reading it last night and I forgot-”

“You forgot?” Her father spat. “Perhaps, tonight, I’ll forget to leave your door unlocked before I go to bed. Take your books up to your room. All of them. No more wandering around after hours.”

“But, father, my room is so cold, and the house is so warm, you must-”

“The only thing I must do is give you two meals a day and not let you freeze at night. You’ll get another blanket. No more wandering around.” Her father snapped.

Nylah stood there, upset. Her fingers clutched onto the records book until they turned white, Alfrid all but tossed her the story book, and she pushed past him and ran to her room. She closed the door, and after making sure nobody had followed her, pried up a floorboard underneath her bed. She pulled out her own quill, ink, and leather-bound journal, a going-away present from her tutor, and flipped it to the first blank page.

Dear Diary,

Everything has gone wrong. I only wish to step foot outside of this house for one day, to see real elves and dwarves and other Men and all the creatures I have read about in my stories. Sometimes I see the bargeman that Father hates so much float past on his barge, and I imagine myself jumping out of my window and landing on his boat, and the two of us sailing far away from here.

Sitting back, Nylah wiped a tear from her cheek. She turned to her storybook. She had another two still in the gap underneath the floorboard. If she was going to ask, she might as well do it soon. Her birthday would come and go before she knew it.

Nylah stood and descended the stairs to the loft again. Her father was sitting at his desk, but he had no visitors. Nylah silently descended another level, and stood in front of her father. When he glanced up at her and back at his records, she cleared her throat.

“Father, I wondered if I… if I might speak to you.” She waited for a reply, and taking his silence as one, continued. “Well, I am nearly sixteen, and I was hoping that this year, instead of having the servant buy me a sweetroll, I might… receive another gift. A… different gift.”

“If you think I am buying you another wretched book, you are sorely mistaken.” Her father said without looking up.

“No, I meant a less… material gift.” Nylah replied.

Her father closed his book of records. “Get on with it. You know I hate it when you speak vaguely.”

Nylah took a deep breath. “I wish to explore. Maybe not the whole world, at first,” She added quickly, after seeing her father’s expression, “Maybe you could… perhaps… let me out of the house? The servant can take me around Lake Town? Only for one day.”

Her father was silent.

“Please? It’ll be my birthday, and I’ll want nothing more than what I ask. One day for me to explore the city.”

“No.”

“But, father-”

“NO!” Her father roared, standing so fast that his book flew off the desk and his tankard spilled ale onto his lap. “You are not leaving this house until I deem it fit!”

“But why? The dragon hasn’t been seen in hundreds of years, and I will have the servant with me, and I won’t go anywhere after dark, and-”

“No! You are staying in this house until I say so. And if you won’t do it willingly, I will force you to.” Her father said, producing a silver key on a long chain. The ale on his pants was spreading as he moved around, and his face was growing redder and redder. “Alfrid! I have been invited to the Winter Festival. While I am gone, Nylah is not to leave her room. Do you understand?”

“But, Sire, as your second-in-command, I was also invited to the-”

“Not anymore. You’re staying here.” The Master shoved the key at Alfrid. “And get me another ale.”

Nylah watched her father storm out of the office. A weight settled behind her eyes. No, she was not going to cry. Not today. 

Alfrid took her arm and pulled her upstairs. “Way to go. I was looking forward to the Festival!”

As Nylah was shoved into her room and heard the lock click, she felt her heart drop. She slumped against the heavy door, listening to Alfrid stomp down the stairs.

“So was I, Alfrid.” She whispered to the door.


End file.
